


Away From You

by Creme13rulee



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 18OI AU Week Day 3, Depression, Happy Ending, Hospitalization, M/M, Meet-Cute, One Shot, body switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-07 23:51:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19095502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creme13rulee/pseuds/Creme13rulee
Summary: 18OI AU Week 2019: Day 3: SupernaturalViktor and Yuuri  switch bodies after a Post-Sochi Gala accident.





	Away From You

 

The hardest part wasn’t waking up in a hospital room, but waking and feeling like your body doesn’t belong to you.

 

Viktor remembers getting into the car to head to the airport, but nothing after that. No one explains to him why he feels half the size he used to be, why a headache splits his head in two.

 

Why there’s a woman with long hair chattering at him in a language he doesn’t know.

 

The whiteboard on the wall is in  Viktor’s mother tongue. It says it is wednesday, and he knows from his childhood that this is the ICU. He’s been here before-- not as a patient, but as a visitor.

 

Viktor is lost for hours, weighed down by tubes and bandages and misunderstanding. 

Then, he comes in.

 

“Celestino,” Viktor sighs in a voice that doesn’t sound right.

 

“Yuuri! Thank God you’re alright,” The strong-jawed coach sighs, squeezing Viktor’s hand.

 

“I’m… not Yuuri…” Viktor frowns. His vision is still blurred, but he has attributed it to whatever injury is underneath the gauze wrapped around his head.

 

“They’re arranging for an interpreter, but maybe there’s an English one already,” Celestino doesn’t hide the worry that tenses in his jaw.  

 

“But… I speak Russian…”  Viktor sighs. Lifting his head is exhausting.

 

“You’re doing really well, Yuuri. “ Celestino patted Viktor’s hand as his phone rang in the other.

 

“Ah, there’s Phichit. You up for saying hello?” Celestino answered the Facetime call to a barrage of English Viktor’s foggy brain couldn’t begin to wrap his brain around.

 

Celestino held his phone in front of Viktor, one of the younger skater’s-- probably Phichit-- lighting up the second he came on the screen. But Viktor frowned, lifting and heavy hand and tapping the preview frame in the corner of the video chat. 

 

It really wasn’t him.

 

Viktor didn’t have black hair or  honey brown eyes.

 

Yuuri did. Yuuri Katsuki.

 

The man he had danced with the night before--- sunday night? And who had stolen Viktor’s heart.

 

Viktor, somehow, had stolen something much, much worse.

 

“Yuuri? Yuuri, are you okay?” Phichit, through the phone, looked more worried now.

 

“What happened?” Viktor made his mouth move.

 

“You were in a car accident on the way to the airport.” Phichit blinked. “It’s international news…”

 

“Why?”

 

“B---because it was you and Viktor. Two of the worlds biggest skaters. And don’t say no. You still did better than three other people. You’re still top six in the world. I’ll fight you!”

 

Viktor fought to form words that made sense.  “Where’s Viktor?” His voice rose into a hiccup. But it wasn’t his voice. It was Yuuri’s.

 

Phichit paled, the video frame shaking. “I don’t know if I should be telling you… I thought you knew.” Phichit gulped.

 

“Where is he?” Where Viktor was really meant Yuuri. At least,  Viktor hoped to all the saints that it did.

 

“Chris said he hasn’t woken up yet.” Phichit said quietly. “But he looks okay...I promise.”

 

Celestino pulled the phone away from Viktor, even though he did his best to hold onto it, even if no words came.

 

“You need to recover, Yuuri.” Celestino huffed.

  
  


And so he did.  He listened to the nurses and doctors relay the order not to talk about Viktor, lest they agitate their patient. When an interpreter eventually came, Viktor listened only to the Russian doctor.

 

There had been an accident.

 

It had been minor-- the drivers were already out of the hospital. 

Amnesia was normal.

 

No one told him about Yuuri.

 

Eventually, the woman who had chattered at him endlessly-- Minako, most likely-- returned.  Viktor went with her back to the airport. Instead of Detroit, they flew to Fukuoka. To Yuuri’s home.

 

When Yuuri’s mother hugged him in the doorway of a traditional Japanese home, Viktor didn’t feel warmth. Only guilt.

 

No one pressured him to talk, or even listen. They spoke to him in a language he didn’t understand and Viktor just stared. They would look at him-- a little teary-eyed-- before smiling and moving on.

 

Viktor took down all the posters from Yuuri’s walls, unable to bear looking at himself. Not when he stepped in front of a mirror and saw feathery dark hair and  warm, tired eyes. Yuuri’s sister kept her distance, and his mother fed him endless bowls of ‘katsudon’. 

 

There was no news on Viktor-- the Viktor of the flesh, that is.  It worried him--- they returned Yuuri’s belongings to him. He had his phone, even if he never answered the calls or messages-- not even the ones he could understand.

 

The fact that Yuuri’s passcode was Viktor’s birthday just made his heart ache.

 

Someone had made sure that he couldn’t find anything about Viktor-- or the accident-- anywhere.

 

“ _ He hasn’t even visited Vicchan _ ,” Mari murmured. Her brother hadn’t gone skating or even for a run since returning from Sochi two months earlier. “ _ He’s not the same person _ .”

 

Viktor spent his days around the inn, unwilling to step into a life that wasn’t his.

 

“Minako-sensei!” Hiroko’s voice was high and tenuous, thick with emotion.  “ _ Please, come! _ ” She called from the front door. “ _ Tell him no _ ,”

 

Viktor lifted himself from the tatami floor of the main room, his ears perking at the familiar jingle of a tag on a collar.

 

“ _ Please.” _

 

Viktor shook as Makkachin bounded inside the onsen, bowling Viktor over and licking his face.

 

“ _ My good girl, my pretty, my pupper _ ,” Viktor cooed.

 

“ _ He’s speaking Russian again _ ,” Minako stared, stunned. She had practically raised Yuuri alongside his family. He never made it past ‘You’re my idol’ and writing Cyrllic. Nevermind the easy pronunciation flowing from his lips.

 

“Y---you!” Viktor gasped, squeezing Makkachin close to him, remembering himself--and who he was.

 

Who he had been, standing in the doorway.

 

He had never seen his face look so vulnerable.  His back hunched, his shirt misbuttoned and hair limp.  His nose covered in freckles he never let anyone outside of makeup artists see.

 

Viktor stood up, pushing Makkachin off his lap, grabbing Yuuri by the hands and pulling the silver-haired body back to the hallway. He followed him up the stairs, stepping on the side of the staircase that didn’t squeak and moan under foot.

 

“Yuuri.” Viktor breathed, slamming his-- Yuuri’s bedroom door behind them. He watched his eyes fill with tears, his own-- his old face nod.

 

“Oh thank god,” Viktor gasped, pulling Yuuri close. It felt strange to be so small, to be tucked under a chin that he knew was his own, on some higher, alternate level.

 

“I’m sorry,” Viktor heard his true voice shake. “I ruined everything.”

 

“How? How could you even do this?” Viktor frowned. It felt wrong to reach up and wipe tears away on his own face. It felt bizarre to see himself this raw.

 

“I couldn’t go on the ice, or talk.. I didn’t know what was going on. Everyone thinks you’re brain damaged..” Yuuri’s voice was small. “I was scared… I only just figured out how to get home.”

 

Home.

 

“I don’t even know why this happened.” Yuuri scrubed at his face with his sleeve. “I couldn’t even talk to you at the Grand Prix.”

 

“You don’t remember?” Viktor felt his heart break. 

 

“Remember what?”

 

“We danced together… you asked me to be your coach.” Viktor laughed humorlessly. “I guess.. You really were drunk.”

 

“Oh god… I’m so sorry… I wasted your time… I… I did something to make this happen.”

 

“You didn’t waste my time. It was the best time of my life.” Viktor reached up, resting his hand on the back of Yuuri’s neck.  “If I could remind you…” Viktor smiled nervously, trying to bring up charm he had sealed away since he had woken up in the hospital room.

 

Yuuri blinked, lips parted as Viktor pulled him down into a kiss.

 

Viktor had expected it to be awkward and dizzying and unfamiliar-- most of his life had been that way for the past few months.

 

Viktor didn’t not expect it to feel so right.

 

He opened his eyes, blinking as his disorientated brain tried to figure out where he was. Why his cheeks felt wet and his nose stuffy and cheeks hot.

 

“Viktor,” Yuuri breathed, his hand trembling on Viktor’s neck. Viktor looked, and found warm brown eyes, red cheeks and a shy smile. 

 

He found Yuuri.

 


End file.
